


Little Huntress: The Early Years

by Vesania94



Series: Da'Telban'Assan: Lily's Story [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Mentor & Protogé, Minor Injuries, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Parent-Child Relationship, non-sexual relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-09-01 06:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8612377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesania94/pseuds/Vesania94
Summary: The early years of LIly's life. Focuses on her relationship with Solas.Extracted from prompts from my tumblr, 5ftgarden.





	1. Teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age 5

The floor of the library was cool as Lily lay upon it, kicking her feet against the wall as she poured over one of the ancient books that Dorian would sometimes let her attempt to read. She was still struggling with many of the larger words, but she was starting to recognize a few of them: “chantry” “Andraste” and “pedantic” being a few of them, from the notes that had been scribbled in the margins by errant note takers. Her finger traced over the letters of one of the words, hoping that by sounding it out in her head, she could determine the meaning. Sitting up, she looked around for Dorian, but he had left. Frowning, she peered over the railing, observing Solas looking over his own pile of parchment, faithfully copying something down in his clear script. She picked up the book, and with a scrap of ribbon she kept in her pocket for just such occasions, marked the page and dashed down the stairs.

“Hah’hren?

Solas scowled at his parchment, the girl’s shrill voice breaking his concentration and leaving a blot of rich black ink over the word he had been writing.

“Da’len, I am trying to concentrate,” he growled, picking up a fresh sheet.

“But hah’hren-“ Lily started, holding out the book.

“Ask your mother.”

“Mama left for Crestwood earlier. And Dorian left with her, Cassie, and Varric,” Lily said, pouting, holding the book close to her chest. “Satham, hah’hren?”

Rolling his eyes, Solas set down his pen, reaching a hand out for the book. She handed it to him with gentle reverence for it’s ancient pages, as if its very existence was sacrosanct.

“Which word is it?”

“This one, hah’hren,” she said, pointing to the word. One of his fingers ran under the word in question, a disinterested frown still etched onto his face.

“Ina’lan’ehn,” he said, shutting the book with a snap that was more sound, than force. “You wouldn’t recognize it, it’s elvhen.”

“Inalen’ehn” Lily said, stumbling over the syllables. “Hah’hren-“

“Please, da’len, if you insist on calling me that, I insist you at least _attempt_ to pronounce it correctly,” Solas snapped. Lily took a step back, her eyes growing wide with hurt. She lowered her head, eyes boring into the floor.

“Ir abelas, Solas,” she muttered, picking up the book and clutching it to her chest again, glancing back and forth at the doors, as if trying to decide which to run out of faster. Solas sighed, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It is pronounced _hahren_. Can you repeat that to me?”

“Hahhren.”

“ _Hahren_.”

“Haahren.”

“Closer. _Hahren_.”

“Hahren?” Lily finished, the ending lifting in a question alongside her eyes as she dared to look at him again. Solas allowed the child a small smile, before nodding.

“Now, try to say the word in the book.”

“Inalehn?”

“Ina’lan’ehn.”

“Ina’lan’ehn,” Lily repeated carefully, concentrating on how her mouth was moving.  “What does it mean hahren?”

Solas frowned again, looking at the girl clutching the book. “Can’t you tell from the context?”

“Pfft, silly. I can’t read most of these words. Dorian just lets me look at them so I can see if I can read the words,” Lily laughed, all previous embarrassment forgotten. “Sometimes he reads them to me so I can learn faster.” She shuffled her feet awkwardly.

Solas glanced at his pile of papers littered with old glyphs that honestly could wait to be translated. And admittedly, the particular tome the girl had been looking at had piqued his interests some weeks ago, he just hadn’t gotten around to reading it. With a quiet groan, he turned back towards Lily, hands folding in his lap.

“Would you like me to read it to you, Lily?”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Satham, hahren?”

“Sath _an_.”

“Sorry… Sathan, hahren?” she corrected, holding the book out, eyes shining with anticipation.

“As you wish, da’lan.”


	2. In Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age 5

In his mind, Solas wove his way around the sleeping populace of Skyhold, observing the dreamers as he passed by their fantasies.  Many were simply dreaming of happy things, playful wisps buzzing around them. Many spirits were clustered around the bright spot that showed the Inquisitor, some benevolent, some less so. A number of spirits of despair were among them, he noted dryly. He needn’t worry himself though. Grace Trevelyan had set her wards carefully, and was sure to be on high alert, even in dreams. He moved past her brightness, seeking quieter, less volitile pastures.

He noted three spirits clustered around a small dreamer, one singing gentle words that held meaning but not utterance– not uncommon for a spirit watching over its favorite charge. What made him stop and observe were the shapes the spirits had chosen to adopt.

Stately and regal, strange glowing hands running through the dreamer’s curls, the first spirit had taken the form of a woman in her mid thirties, hair braided tightly against richly colored brown skin. She was covered in golden jewelry, from the many rings on her fingers, to the large circular earrings that hung from her lobes. Solas approached the spirit carefully, so as not to disturb them.

“Hello, Dream-walker,” the spirit laughed, turning towards him as he drew nearer. “Do not be alarmed. We merely watch the child, as we did before.”

“Before?” Solas asked, looking down at the dreamer. The peaceful set of Lily’s face caused something in his heart to melt slightly, which in turn caused him to frown. “What is this child to you?”

“So impatient, Pride,” the spirit laughed again, still stroking Lily’s hair. “Has the girl taught you nothing of patience? As to your question, she is mine, as I am hers, as long as she wishes it to be. For now, protecting her from dreams is all I can do in the stead of my friend.”

Solas nodded, observing the other two spirits. One seemed to take the form of a tall elven man, the other a shorter but sapling thin elven woman, both armed with bows. “You were her mother’s captured spirits.”

“Capture suggests that the bond was not consensual, Pride,” the elven female spirit spoke, looking at the girl. “We came because we wished to help. We stay because we have grown attached to the child, and her happiness brings us happiness.”

“May I ask your names?” Solas asked, kneeling next to the sleeping girl. The first spirit nodded to the other two, the spirit who chose the form of a male speaking first.

“I am Valor. I am bravery. I am the one who encourages her to reach for new bounds, and surpass them,” he said with a bow.

“I am Diligence. I am perseverance. I am the drive to see things to the end,” the elven woman said, standing straighter. Solas nodded and turned towards the remaining spirit.

“I am a mother’s calm, the eye in the storm. I am patience.” She looked at him with sad eyes that eerily matched Lily’s in intensity. “I am the hand that holds her back when valor and diligence become too much. Do not be afraid, Pride, we chose these forms of our own volition, for they give the child comfort.”

“Tell me of her mother,” Solas asked, sitting next to the sleeping girl.

“She was a dear friend. She sought our counsel when she was forced to leave her husband and family behind,” Valor answered.

“She was frightened. She did not feel that she had the strength to protect the child and herself. We helped as we were able,” Diligence continued, brushing hair from her face. Solas noted that she shared similar pointed features to the man, the same underlying pointedness that Lily’s childish features still hid. They both wore the vallaslin of Andruil, the woman’s marked on her pale skin in dark green, the man’s in a deep red color that stood out against his weathered tan.

“Anayra was an accomplished mage, and a powerful seer. Her loss was one of many your world will regret, Pride.” Patience finished. Solas frowned.

“And the child?”

“Will be protected until she no longer requires our aid,” Diligence growled. “We promised our friend to watch over her.”

Solas merely nodded and observed Lily once again, watching Patience braid her hair, humming more dissonant lullabies, which to the child probably were reminiscent of recent events; perhaps the memory of the last happy moments with her mother she had.

“What does she dream of, friend?” he asked, quietly, watching Lily shuffle slightly.

“Of quiet. Of stillness. Of family, both old and new coming together. Of nut cakes and silver, and admissions in stairwells. Of forgiveness, and understanding,” Patience said, smiling gently at the girl. “She dreams of learning, of colorful paints and pretty pictures. She dreams of you, Dream-walker. She dreams of us.”

“Does she know you watch?”

“She feels. She does not know for sure.”

“Would it bring her happiness to know?”

The other two spirits huddled around the girl, pressing ghostly lips to her cheek. Patience looked at him sadly.

“No. Do not speak of this to her. Her losses are still too near to her heart,” the spirit whispered, pressing her own kiss to Lily’s temple. Lily stretched and opened her eyes. Patience smiled at the girl as Lily blinked, the child’s face mirroring the smile sleepily. “It is time to wake up, my little flower.”

“Ar lath ma, Mamae,” Lily whispered before slowly fading into transparency and disappearing as she woke in the real world.

Solas followed, opening his eyes and sitting up from his spot on his couch. The cold morning sunlight streamed in from the top of the rotunda, illuminating the room with a pale glow not unlike that possessed by the spirits. He frowned to himself, puzzling over what he had learned. It seemed the more he learned of little Lily, the more questions arose, and it confounded him. Shaking the cobwebs of sleep from his mind, he pushed the annoyance to the back of his thoughts to mull over through the day, the patter of tiny feet racing across flagstones already echoing through the hallways as Skyhold started to wake.

 


	3. Bedtime Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age 5

A hush had fallen over Skyhold as twilight slipped silently into nighttime, and the stars came out over the fortress, twinkling in the inky expanse of the sky. Slowly, messengers and runners stopped coming to the office door, and Cullen was able to breath a sigh of relief.  Over in the corner at a small table, Lily’s own tired sigh was cut by a huge yawn as her head dipped lower and lower towards the wood, curls starting to brush against the book that had been open to the same page for the past half hour.

“Lily? It’s time for bed,” he called over gently, smirking to himself as she jerked awake.

“’m not sleepy, Papa.”

“And I’m the King of Ferelden. Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Cullen laughed, carefully kneeling down and picking Lily up. She protested weakly, but allowed herself to be carried up the ladder to her makeshift bed.  The motions of bedtime were gone through –into her night clothes, a wet cloth over hands and face to wash off the ink and dirt of the day, carefully combing through curls and working out the snarls and tangles that had worked themselves together. A glass of water, teeth brushed, and finally tucked in, stuffed nug courtesy of Krem locked securely in her arms.

“Comfy?” Cullen asked, brushing an errant curl out of her eyes.

“Mmmhm.”

“Anything else before I get back to work?”

Lily pondered for a moment, little brow furrowing in sleepy concentration. “Can I have a story, Papa?”

“Which one would you like to hear?”

“Can you tell me about the Lady of Lake Calenhad again?” Lily asked, fighting the siren call of sleep. Cullen chuckled low, and nodded settling on the edge of the cot.

“Alright, a long time ago, before Ferelden existed, there was a beautiful woman who lived on the shores of Lake Calenhad,” Cullen started.  “She was said to be so beautiful, her father locked her high in a tower to protect her, and that only a man who could answer her three riddles could gain access to the tower and free her. Many princes and chieftains tried without success, for many years, each failing faster than the one before him.

“One day, a lonely travelling soldier came across the tower, curious to see the lady for himself. He had heard the rumors of the beautiful woman in the tower, and wanted to know if it was true or not. So he called up to her, ‘Fairest lady of the lake, let me hear your first riddle!’ And she answered?”

“What can be given freely, broken easily, and carefully earned?” Lily yawned, snugging up against the stuffed nug.

“The soldier thought for a moment, thinking back to the many people he had met in his time in the army, before answering the woman,” Cullen continued. “ ‘Trust!’ he shouted up to the tower window. Inside her tower, the Lady of Lake Calenhad smiled, for he had answered the first riddle correctly. ‘Then you must trust that you may answer my second riddle tomorrow!’ she yelled back at him. And so the soldier set up his camp and stayed the night at the base of her tower.

“When the sun rose the next morning, he once again stood in front of the tower and called up to the woman: ‘Fairest lady of the lake, let me hear your second riddle!’ And she answered?”

Lily was partially asleep by now, and trying to concentrate on the words. “What to many great men lack, many weak men possess, and many mothers wish for?”

“The soldier thought for a moment, thinking back to his commanding officers, the men under his own command, and his own mother, before answering the woman.” Lily yawned and snuggled into the pillow, starting to drift away on the storyline. “ ‘Patience!’ he shouted up to the tower window. And inside her tower, the Lady of Lake Calenhad smiled again, for he had answered her second riddle correctly. This time, she peeked her head out of the tall tower window. ‘Then you must be patient, good ser, for I cannot tell you my last riddle.  You must wait for the next sunrise!’ she shouted back to him. The soldier nodded, and set up his camp once again and stayed the night at the base of her tower.

“When the sun rose on the third day, the soldier stood at the base of her tower one more time, and called up to the woman. ‘Fairest lady of the lake, let me hear your last riddle!’ And she answered?”

A gentle snore answered him, as Lily shuffled slightly, almost completely asleep. Cullen laughed quietly and tucked her curls behind her ear. “She answered, ‘What, my soldier, brings heroes to their knees, topples kingdoms, and turns young maidens into fearsome warriors?’”

The girl’s breathing had eased into slumber, and Cullen smiled gently. “Good night, Lily.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you figure out what the answer to the Lady of Lake Calenhad's last riddle is?


	4. Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age 5

Sunlight streamed into the rotunda from the rookery, illuminating the tall wall of the rotunda that Solas was working on. Colors blossomed over the plaster as Lily peeked over the floor from the library, watching intently. The brushes clinked against the stoneware pots that held the many and varied pigments. Slowly, she made her way to the stairs, creeping down them so as not to disturb him. Finally standing in the middle of the rotunda, her mouth hung open, watching a brilliant shade of blue work its way through the wet plaster, the earthy smell it gave off filling her nostrils.

She almost couldn’t stop herself from whispering as it covered more and more of the wall. “It’s so pretty!”

Her awe was met with a low chuckle. “How long have you been watching da’lan?”

“Since the red bits,” Lily squeaked, terrified at being caught out. She knew that she was barely tolerated in the rotunda still and that sneaking down while he was working –especially when he was painting– was all but forbidden.

“And what’s your favorite color, da’lan?” Solas laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Yellow.”

There was a heavy sigh, laced with amusement and knowledge that he might well regret what he was about to ask her. “Would you like to come paint one of the yellow parts, Lily?”

“You’d let me do that?”

“As long as you’re careful, yes.”

Lily carefully walked towards the low scaffold, lifting her arms up towards Solas so he could pick her up to climb onto the wooden platform. He instead ignored her and continued painting the bold blue swath of color. Frowning, Lily started climbing up the wood, sprawling on the platform as she made it up.

“Aha, there you are. Now, pick up one of the brushes. I suggest this one.” He pointed to a relatively medium sized, round pointed brush, and Lily picked it up, unsure of what to do. She wasn’t even allowed in the rotunda and now he was… teaching her how to paint? “Now, how do you think we should treat the brush?” Solas asked, bringing her back to the present. Lily’s brown creased in concentration as she fumbled the brush, trying to mimic the position he held his in. She made a good approximation of it, and it was rewarded with a slight smile.

“You’re doing well, da’lan. Now gently dip your brush in the paint.”

She lowered the brush into the yellow, following Solas’ every move as he redipped his own, swirling it through the bright pigment. It came out gleaming like liquid sunshine, her hand shaking in nervousness. Solas rested his brush next to him and carefully moved his hand behind hers, guiding it towards the wall.

“Carefully now- you see this spot that’s been outlined with the black? Can you fill that in with the yellow?” he asked her, hovering the brush above the space. She swallowed and nodded, trembling as the brush touched plaster. Immediately the bright color seeped into the plaster, racing through it until it hit the black, where it stopped, the stronger pigment keeping it from seeping into already painted plaster.

“Am– am I doing it right?” Lily asked, her voice hesitant and quiet.

“Just don’t grind the brush into the plaster, and you’ll do fine, Lily. If you take care of your tools, they will take care of you,” Solas comforted,  returning to his blue panel. He had finished it by the time Lily had finished carefully filling in her yellow part.

“Well done, da’lan! Would you like to do another?” he asked her, flashing her a rare smile. She smiled back timidly, carefully swirling the brush in the pigment again, nodding. “How about this spot?”


	5. The Roses Have Bloomed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age 5

All she had wanted to do was show him that the rose bush he secretly doted on had bloomed overnight, coating the north wall of the rotunda in a sea of red blossoms. She had not anticipated the density of the thorns on the plant however, and as she stood in the rotunda, gripping the bedraggled flower, her hands burned, palms bloodied and cut deeper than she had thought. She sniffed a little, wiping her eyes on her shoulder, waiting for Solas to reach a point in his painting that she could interrupt him.

The clink of brush against water told her it was time, and she looked up onto the scaffolding, little voice etched with poorly masked pain as she spoke up.

“Hahren?”

There was a weary sigh and a creak of wood as he turned, peering over the edge of the scaffolding.

“What do you need Lil- fenhedis, what did you do?” Concern colored his voice as he dropped down from the scaffolding, quickly moving towards the girl, who held out the flower.

“I didn’t think I’d get that hurt…” she sniffed. “The rose bush was so pretty and you’ve been inside all day!”

Solas carefully took the wilted rose from her and picked up one of the fresh cups of water, gently placing it in the vessel and setting it on his desk. Gently stretching her hands out, he started looking at the deep scratches and punctures, shaking his head.

“Da’lan, you could have told me. You didn’t need to bring one to me,” he scolded, hands starting to glow a happy bright green color, slowly meshing together the injuries.

Lily sniffed slightly, her hands still itching as the healing completed, wiping her eyes. “Will you come look then?”

“Yes, da’assan, I will come and look.”


	6. Just This Once, I Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age 6, pre-kidnapping

He found Lily standing outside the door to his rotunda, rocking back and forth on her heels, as she was fond of doing when she wanted to make it known she was going to ask for something. She smiled broadly at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. That meant it would either be a favor, or some tidbit of knowledge she was planning on using for her own amusement.

“Haaaaaaahren,” she said in a singsong tone, pushing up onto her tiptoes.

“Yes, da’assan?” he answered, voice colored with amusement.

“Can you do me a favor hahren?”

Aha, so it was to be a favor then. This would be entertaining at the very least.

“Of course, Lily. What do you need?”

The girl shuffled her feet, suddenly looking sheepish. “I was wondering… if you could spot me?”

“Spot you?” Solas wondered out loud, eyebrows arching in surprise. “For what?”

“Please don’t ask? Pleaaaaaaaase?” the girl begged, large brown eyes blinking up at him with a deceptive innocence. “Just this once, hahren?”

“Just this once?”

“Please? I promise it will only be this one time and then I’ll never ask you for anything ever again!”   
He laughed loudly, nodding his head as she squeaked in excitement and ran towards the ramparts, glancing over the edge with a wild grin. Solas followed her easily, matching her bouncing stride. Below them was a huge pile of leaves that had been cleared from the courtyard, huge and golden.

“Ok, hahren. Go down there please?” Lily instructed, jumping up with her hands on the stones, trying to boost herself up onto the crinolations. Solas caught her before she toppled off head first, keeping her steady as she looked over the edge. He was having second thoughts about playing along with her requests.

“Da’lan, this may not be a good idea.”

Lily turned to face him, curls bouncing in the wind, a huge pout on her face. “You promised hahren! All you have to do is make sure I’m okay after I jump. Mama and Papa don’t need to know.”

“Why?”

“Mama doesn’t like it when Sera makes bets with me,” the girl answered with a roll of her eyes. “She says I’m too young to understand.”

She was too young to properly understand, Solas thought to himself, shaking his head. “No. Get down from there.” He went to pick her up to place her safely on the less precarious stones, but she scooted just out of his grasp. “Da’lan! Do not argue with me on this.”

“No!”

“Lily get down!” he spat as she danced just behind his grasp, teetering on the edge. She started to roll her eyes with a response when her face went pale with realization as she tipped backwards, almost comically slow, mouth opening in horror as her feet slipped off the edge, and she fell towards the pile of leaves. Solas felt his heart fly into his throat as he pushed himself over the stones, trying to grab for anything as the girl fell, missing Lily’s hand by mere inches. There was the quiet whisper of leaves as she disappeared into the golden pile, a small crater with settling detritus the only evidence that someone had fallen.

He hadn’t realized he was moving until he hit the stairs, taking them two and three at a time on his way down, sprinting to the pile.

“Lily? LILY are you alright?” he yelled, scooting to a halt. There was a slight rustle and her head poked out of the center of the crater, leaves stuck in her curls and her face smudged with dirt, laughing hysterically.

“That was amazing! Hahren, let me do it again!”


	7. Snowball Fight

A thick blanket of snow had fallen over Skyhold, drowning the courtyard in white lacy ice. Cullen was giving orders to his recruits, swathed in thick wool, and thicker gloves. The recruits shivered.

“Alright! Today we weill be going over exposure training!” Cullen roared, his voice cutting cleanly through the thin mountain air. His recruits shivered in response, one’s teeth chattering In the breeze. “Some of you may be posted in the Empris du Lion! It’s pretty cold there,” Cullen shouted. A few of his recruits tittered. “You think that’s funny recruit?” he yelled at one of the men, who was  struggling to keep from laughing.

“No sir!”

“What’s so funny then soldier?” Cullen yelled, drawing up to full height, towering over the shivering man. Solid, freezing cold muck struck the back of his head, dripping down his neck. He turned, looking at the buildings, watching the shaking, silent shiver of blue wool disappear behind one of the bulidings. “Aha. It seems we have our first enemy attack!” Cullen laughed. Lily’s raven black curls peeked out, brassy eyes searching amber ones with a light smile. He moved out of the way of another well placed snowball, laughing loudly as it struck one of his recruits in the chest. “Dareth, you’re dead!”

In his distraction he didn’t see the large snowball hurtling towards his head again, the cold, solid ball colliding with his shoulder and sopping dwon his shirt again.

“Papa! You’re dead!” Lily laughed, her giggle echoing around the courtyard.


	8. Do Not Dwell On It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age 6, post kidnapping

Solas wandered into the garden, past the Iron Bull, who nodded to him briefly, jerking a thumb towards Lily, who was sitting on one of the benches, fiddling with something in her hands.

“Your turn, fade-walker,” the qunari grumbled. “She’s really quiet today. Couldn’t even get her to crack a smile.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, thank you,” Solas replied, walking deliberately towards the girl, loud enough that she knew he was approaching.  “Lily? How are you?”

She didn’t look up from the small box she was fiddling with. “Hello, hahren.” She did not answer his question, but she did scoot over slightly, indicating that it was alright that he sit next to her.

“Is that one of those dwarven puzzle boxes?” Solas asked carefully. “I confess, I haven’t been able to get mine open yet.”

“I’ve just about got this one,” Lily said quietly, twisting the box rapidly in her hands. “Just a few more-“ There was a click, and the top swung backwards, revealing a small sweet. She sighed and shut the box, twisting it shut again. The mechanism clicked back into its original place. She started over.

“Lily, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answered simply, spinning a dial in a complex pattern he was surprised she had memorized. “I’m okay.”

Solas frowned. “For all your training with the Iron Bull, you’re doing very poorly at hiding your emotions, da’assan.”

“’m okay, hahren,” she muttered again, twisting the box. It clicked again, revealing the sweet and she started to shut it, when Solas stopped her, picking the box out of her hands.

She sat in silence, the quiet rustle of leaves heralding the breeze that blew her curls slightly as she kicked her feet back and forth. The silence, or more over the absence of her laughter and chatter was hanging heavy in the air.

“Would you like to tell you a story, da’assan?” Solas finally asked, folding long fingers over her shoulder. She sighed heavily, betraying a sadness that was beyond what a child of her years should experience.

“Yes hahren.”

“Then you must give me something in return.”

Lily frowned,  looking up at him with quizzical eyes. “What?”

“Do not dwell on the events at the chateau. No one blames you,” Solas whispered, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “What happened was not your fault in the slightest.”

“But Mama nearly-“ Lily started, eyes wide with concern.

“Your mother did NOT die, da’assan. Now, do you want to hear the story or not?”

“…Yes…”

“Alright. Now, picture yourself in a garden much like this one. Long ago, in the days of Arlathan, there was a young elf…”


	9. Searching for Krem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 days post kidnapping.

She was reading quietly the corner of his office, back up against the wall. She hadn’t moved all morning, and Cullen needed to go work with the new batch of recruits.

“Lily?”

“Hmm?” She looked up at him worried.

“Would you be okay staying with someone else for a little bit while I take care of some work?”

“Oh.” Lily blinked at him, her little brow furrowing. “Um… Krem?”

“Sure. He should be down in the tavern, right?” Cullen asked, smiling. Lily nodded at him, marking her place with a tiny bit of parchment, and shutting the book with a snap. Then she reached up towards him, her little lower lip sticking out in a pout. “You want me to carry you?”

“Please Papa? I don’t want to get lost,” Lily whispered. Cullen sighed.

“Alright.”

He picked her up and lifted her up onto his shoulders, letting her settle into a spot comfortably. With his hands on her ankles, they carefully made their way through the door and out onto the battlements.

A few of their friends were hanging out around the door, hands resting on nearby weapons. Lily’s kidnapping had put the entire fortress on edge. Varric was dealing cards out to Cassandra, Sera, and the Iron Bull, who looked up and smiled at them.

“Hey there Beans. Cullen.”

“Hi Nuncle Bull,” Lily whispered, smiling.

“Bull, do you know where Krem is?” Cullen asked.

“Actually I don’t. Why?”

Lily fidgeted on Cullens shoulders. “Pancakes.”

“You could try the kitchens,” Varric said. “I thought I saw him hanging around there earlier.”

“Thanks.”

They made their way down the stairs, past the training ground and into the main hall. Vivienne, Dorian, and Grace were sitting around a table, pouring over a manuscript. Grace was nursing a cup of water laced with an array of herbs, while Dorian lectured her.

“You see darling, the cinquefoil in correct doses actually helps augment the mana stores of exhausted mages.”

“Dorian, it’s incredibly poisonous.”

“Only in concentrations of more than three medium buds per gallon of water. Oh. Lily!” Dorian shouted, waving his hand. Lily waved back.

“Hi Uncle Dorian. Hi Mama!”

Grace smiled widely. “Hello Lily. Cullen, do you need me to take her?”

Cullen sighed. “No, she asked to find Krem. We heard he was in the kitchens.”

“I believe I saw Cremicius go out to the garden,” Vivienne said, tracing one of her fingers over the manuscript. “Lily, dear, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay Ma’am,” Lily replied, nodding gently. “Thank you for asking.”

Vivienne smiled kindly. “Any time, dear. Now, Inquisitor? Do you have any knowledge about the archaic uses for felandris?”

Grace rolled her eyes and smiled, turning back to the manuscript and looking at the passage Vivienne had tapped on.

They left the hall and walked out to the garden, Lily kicking her feet gently as they looked for Krem.

“It doesn’t look like he’s out here either, Lily,” Cullen sighed. “Do you want to go back to your Mama?”

“Okay.”


	10. Preserved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age 6, post kidnapping.

Solas noticed that she tried to take his words to heart, to not dwell on the incidents at the chateau. But she was young, traumatized, and fussed at it like a hangnail, ripping the wound open a little deeper every time she ran her mind over it. He could tell when she started to replay the incident in her mind. She would grow quiet, and shy away from anyone who wasn’t a part of the Inner Circle. Her eyes would lock onto something on the floor, almost staring through the stone itself.  There was a harsh fear that radiated off of her as she collapsed in on herself, tiny and fragile like one of her paper lilies.

She sitting in the rotunda when he looked up from his translation work, staring blankly at the wall he had first allowed her to assist her on, fingers rubbing at a spot of yellow paint on the floor. Brow furrowing, he let one his brushes clatter off the desk, the sound of the wood ringing on stone echoing through the room, making Lily start violently.

“I’m sorry, Lily, did I disturb you?” Solas asked, reaching down and picking up the brush.

“No hahren. I’m okay,” she muttered, her voice lackluster.

“Would you like me to read this translation to you?”

“No.”

“Would you like a story?”

“No.”

“… Are you thinking about the chateau again.”

“No.”

He paused, surprised at her answer. “You’re not? Then what are you so obsessed with, da’assan?”

Lily turned back to the wall, tipping her head back so she could see all of it, tracing her finger through the air around the figures. “I miss my Mama,” she whispered, leaning back onto the floor.

“The Inquisitor was just outside talking to-“

“My _real_ Mama, Solas.”

Her words made him pause, watching her finger still tracing over the figures on the wall. “Ah, I see.”

“I miss her… and my papa, and my auntie,” she mumbled. Her finger went around the figures again, and paused. “I wish I could see them again.”

Something felt taut inside Solas’ chest as he watched the girl’s hand fall and the heels of her hands press against her eyes. Picking up the bucket of powdered plaster and dumping some of his tools into a bag, he walked over to her, taking her hand.

“Come with me, da’assan. I have an idea.”

He led her up to the bedroom the Grace and Lily shared, hauling the bucket up the ladder and into her space. She trailed behind him, eyes wide as he moved a bookshelf out of the way, opening up a small panel of stone.

“Would you like to help?” he asked, looking up, smiling gently at her. She nodded shyly, walking over to kneel next to the bucket, rolling up her sleeves. “It can’t be too wet, or it won’t stick to the wall, okay?”

They mixed up the plaster, and Lily watched him apply the first coat, dragging the trowel up the wall, the surface smooth. He handed it to her and watched her first fumbling tries, helping her where necessary. By the end, her side was as smooth as his was.

She sat back and watched as he carefully drew lines in the drying plaster, sketching out two tall figures and one incredibly short one, accenting them with subtle details.

“How do you know what they looked like?” Lily asked, confusion coloring her voice. Solas turned to her and smiled at her.

“Your memories of them are strong, da’assan. They are always near you in the Fade,” he soothed, carefully carving out the shortest elf’s vallaslin into the damp plaster.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry if that disturbs you Lily. I won’t do it again if you’d like,” Solas offered, seeing her blink owlishly at him as he mixed up a thinner, smoother coat of plaster.

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad someone else remembers them,” she replied, smiling sadly at them. “Mama and Nara were so pretty.”

“They were, Lily.”

He helped her smooth the thinner coat of plaster over the carved lines, softening them and creating a smooth, pristine surface. He handed her a brush, and a small pot of paint, and the two of them started on the wall, filling in the shapes with reds, greens, and golds.

They stepped away when it was finished, their hands, faces and arms smudged and spattered with paint and plaster alike.

“There,” Solas said, smiling down at Lily, who couldn’t take her eyes off of the portraits, “now you can see them every day.”

The hug she gave him was legendary.


	11. Pickpocket

Lily had seen the ring.

It was pretty, plain, silver. Just what Mama would like. Obviously intended for Mama as well, by the way he would take it out of his desk and toy with the box, flipping it back and forth in the candle light when he thought she was asleep, always tucking it back away before she stirred fully awake.

He would slip it into his pocket, waiting for the right time and then something would always happen. Reports, runners, Lily herself even, all interrupting at the most inopportune moments.

She noticed that too.

Now they were gearing up to leave for the Arbor Wilds, and she just watched over the edge of the lines of text she had been given to trace, the spidery hand of Mother Giselle spelling out a large swath of the Canticle of Trials. The ring was shut up in his desk under lock and key, and soon his office would be as well.

How dare he leave it behind.

Setting the paper aside, she quietly got up, sneaking over towards the desk. If he noticed, he probably assumed she was getting more parchment, or one of the sticks of charcoal he kept stashed in the lower drawer for her use. Slipping one of her mother’s hair pins out of her pocket, she carefully twisted it into the lock, fiddling with the mechanism. There was a mercifully quiet click as it opened, the drawer easing towards her as her hand snaked in, grabbing the tiny box. She shut it and locked it tight, walking back and picking up her papers, standing and waiting as her father locked both of the side doors, before taking the stack of papers from her, extending a hand.

“Remember who you’re staying with?” he asked, smiling down at her.

“Sera. Then Madame de Fer. Then Krem,” Lily recited, reaching up with both hands. “Carry me?”

“Carry you? What, a big strong girl like you wants to be carried?” Cullen laughed reaching down and picking her up with one arm. “Alright, since we won’t be here for a while, I’ll indulge you. Now, over to Sera’s?”

Lily nodded actively, the bouncing motion distracting from the subtle bounce of the box dropping into his pocket.


	12. Why Me?

Lily lay in her bed in Skyhold, blinking owlishly at the large mural of her family staring back at her. She missed them.

Maker, she missed them.

Creators, she missed them. Her mamae’s hands in her hair, her babae’s strong voice. Her aunt’s cheeky, but determined smile. She missed the smell of wood smoke and the sound of aravels creaking in the breeze. She missed the sound of the woods.

It made her heart ache for want of it.

Frustrated she sat up and shook her head, biting her lip. Cullen groaned from the bed, also sitting up.

“Lily? Go to bed,” he groaned, stating to pace around the room. Lily scooted out of her bed and down the ladder, standing in the doorway to the rest of the room, framed in a shaft of moonlight.

“Are you okay, Papa?” she asked quietly.

“I’ll be fine, Lily,” Cullen grunted, leaning up against the stone wall. “Just a bad night. Your mother’s not here, and that always makes things worse.”

“Oh.”

She watched him start to pace again, looking outside. She didn’t move when he turned back to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.

“I… I wanted to ask you something,” she whispered, clutching the doorframe. Cullen sighed and walked back over to the bed, sitting down with a thump. He patted the mattress next to him, nodding at Lily. She quietly padded over and hopped up, hugging her knees to her chest.”

“What’s up? Bad dream?” he asked, more gently. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No… just… why me?” she whispered, looking at the floor.

“I’m sorry?”

“Why did you and Mama adopt me? Why not some other orphan?”

“Oh Lily,” Cullen sighed, cradling his head in one hand. “That’s a very difficult question. And one that I’m not quite sure I can answer.”

“Can you try?”

Cullen leaned back onto the bed, shutting his eyes as he winced. “When your Mama pulled you out of that house, back in Haven–“

“Where Mamae died. Yes,” she said, in a matter of fact tone. Cullen frowned.

“– she told me to protect you. To make sure you found your family. And when… when it turned out they were all dead, and you were there with me when… when we found Grace,” he paused, plagued by the memory of his wife’s unconscious body in the snow, lips turning blue. “You stayed with me the whole night Lily. And then you kept hanging on Grace, and she came to love you. And I came to love both of you.”

“But why me?” Lily asked again, big brown eyes blinking at him.

“Because you had become ours already,” Cullen said, brushing her wild curls back. She lowered her head. “Lily, what’s this really about?”

Lily sighed. It was a heavy, forlorn sigh. “Some of the other kids… started calling me half-breed. And knife-ear.”

“Who was it?”

“They said that I wasn’t ‘worthy’ of being the Inquisitor’s daughter,” she continued, starting to sniff. “They said that you’d never love me like a normal human child.”

Cullen hugged her close. “Maker, Lily. Never believe that we don’t love you. You’re our daughter. And no one will ever take that away from us.”

Lily hugged her father tightly, nodding against his shoulder.

“Thanks Papa…could… could you tell me a story, so I can get back to sleep?” she asked, sniffing away unshed tears. Cullen smiled at her.

“Where were you and your mother in Tales of the Champion?”


	13. Bittersweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age 6, post-game

The rotunda stood empty. She kept walking into it hoping her hahren would be there once again, the clink of brushes on paint pots bringing the area to life. More than once her mother had found her standing in the middle of the open area, staring at the unfinished wall.

The plaster had long hardened, immortalizing the last design in linework. If Solas came back- no, when Solas came back, he would have to chip it off piece by piece to uncover the stone beneath it, re-apply the plaster, and carefully redraw the final design.

As each day passed, her hope for that dwindled.

The wall begged for the vibrant colors to be splashed across it, running and sinking into still wet plaster to be preserved for all eternity. It ached to have the story of the last battle told, to finish off  the masterpiece what was the rotunda. And as she waited, an idea formed in her head:

She would finish it.

It was amazing what a little girl could get away with when she looked determined, and no one questioned what she was doing until she started chipping away at the plaster.

“Maker!  Lily don’t touch it you’ll ruin it!” Cullen had yelled at her as she slowly took the chisel to the plaster, flaking pieces of the thinner coating off. He picked her up, pulling her away from the wall as he fussed and she flailed, screaming arguments at the top of her lungs.

“I can finish it! He showed me how!”

She was sent to bed for throwing a tantrum.

The next time she went to the library she flicked a piece of plaster off the wall. And the next. And the next. Slowly, a four foot patch emerged at the bottom of the unfinished painting, exposing the carved linework.

When her mother learned of what she was doing, she was sent to bed without supper for being insubordinate. She stuck her lip out as her mother chastised her. She continued to pout as she sat on her bed, looking up at the mural she had helped make in her space, her mother’s, father’s, and aunt’s faces smiling warmly down on her.

“Hello Cole,” she whispered, smiling just before the spirit-boy popped into being next to her.

“Hello Lily. You’re being very loud today.” Cole said, peering at her. “You’re angry and impatient. She doesn’t like that. Neither would the Wolf.”

“The Wolf? She? What are you talking about?” Lily questioned, pulling her stuffed nug into her arms and squeezing it.

“She’s like your mama but not your mama. She loves you like a mama but she’s more me than you,” Cole explained, sitting next to her. He carefully put a paper lily in her hand, wrapping her fingers around it. “The arrow that refuses to break in the wolf’s jaws.”

“What?” Lily exclaimed, turning on him.

“Oh, I’m not supposed to tell you that. Too young. Too young like a bird that has been kicked out of the nest. No, not a bird, a plant that came up too early in the spring, but struggles through. He misses you.”

“Solas?”

“Yes! No.  Pride misses what the Wolf tries to forget, and the Plant tries to hold on to earth that slips beneath her roots. Ir abelas, da’assan,” Cole told her, rubbing her shoulder gently. “Garden steeped in the earthy smell of plaster, blooming in color. You want to finish the wall?” he asked, peering at her closely before turning away and looking at the wall. “It would make you happy.”

“They won’t let me,” Lily sniffed, pouting. “They don’t believe I can do it.”

“I would like for her to finish it, and I do miss her,” Cole said, his voice lowering to a growling timbre. Lily flinched away, looking at Cole, who continued regardless of her reaction. “I’m sorry Cole, but with your gift, I fear that you might see the path I now must walk in solitude forever.”

“Wait. H- hahren? I don’t understand what’s–“

“This fate is mine alone. Indeed, I would not wish it on an enemy, much less someone that I once cared for. Though you reach out in compassion, I must now insist that you–“

“No!” Lily sobbed.

“– _forget._ ”

Cole’s face went blank for a second, before he smiled broadly at her. “I’m sorry, Lily, what were we talking about? Plaster and dust. You think finishing something will make you whole.”

Lily shook her head to clear it, processing what had just happened. “Cole, are you okay?”

“I feel fine. I think,” he answered her, still smiling. “You’re going to finish it.”

“I think I am.”

She waited until all of Skyhold was asleep, carefully sneaking out of her bedroom to the rotunda. As quietly as she could, she rigged a harness from a few lengths of rope and started chipping away at the plaster high up on the wall.  By the time anyone noticed the tinkling of plaster on the ground, she was already mixing up the thinnest layer, working quickly and messily to get it up before she was stopped.

Footsteps echoed behind her as Mama and Papa raced into the rotunda, watching her dangle from the ceiling, carefully troweling the slick plaster over the original traced out lines.

“Lily get down from there!” Cullen yelled up at her. She could hear the disapproval in his voice.

“No! I need to finish it!” she yelled back, carefully pressing her hands against the top most corner, embedding her tiny handprint into the plaster.

“Lily?” Grace called, worry coloring her tone, “Lily, please sweetheart! It’s not safe!”

“He won’t let me get hurt! Don’t worry Mama!”

“He?”

Cole popped into the room next to Grace, nodding. “Making Pride whole again. She is safe here.”

“Cole did you encourage her to do this?” Grace asked incredulously. Cole nodded again cheerfully.

“She was already working towards it. She just needed someone to listen. She can do it.”

Lily slowly lowered herself to the ground, carefully mixing the pigments into their earthenware pots, swirling a large brush through them. She began to paint. She painted until daybreak, letting the final stroke fall just as the pale sunlight started to fill the rotunda with first morning’s light.

The design was almost entirely Solas’. She had added a few designs along the bottom, patterns and swirls of color on color. Stepping back, she surveyed her handiwork.

It was nowhere the beautiful, careful work that Solas had excelled in. The plaster was lumpy in some places, and some of the colors had started to blend together at the edges. But it was done.

“You did it, Lily,” Grace whispered, looking up at the wall finally, her jaw dropping open slightly. “When did you learn how to do this?”

“We did it, Mama. Both of us,” Lily said, smiling and yawning. She looked down at her shirt, which was spattered in plaster and pigment.

“You really miss Solas that much, don’t you?” Grace sighed.

“I do.”


	14. Fen'Hahren

It was her second tour of the Hinterlands alongside Scout Harding when it approached her. Lily wasn’t quite sure WHAT it was. 

Certainly it was large. It wasn’t a wolf because it was bigger than a wolf, but it looked like one. It wasn’t a mabari, but it followed orders like one. It wasn’t a nug, but it liked to cuddle like one. It wasn’t a fennec, though it had fur like a fennec and ran around her in circles constantly. It played, and it nipped and it did all the things a good pet should do, all the while observing her with red eyes peeking out from its black fur.

What it was, she decided, was large, affectionate, intelligent, and excited.  And it seemed to be hers.

Lace had only glanced over at Lily with wide eyes as she came up riding the Thing.

“Well, Beans. It seems you found a friend! Let him go, so we can get heading back to Skyhold.”

Lily had climbed down from Thing, it’s red eyes observing her with a kind of calm serenity.

“I don’t think it wants to go, Lace,” she said, looking at it. She turned her head to one side, and it mimicked her actions. The Thing pawed at the ground, shaking it’s head. “I think he wants to come home with me.”

“Lily, that’s probably not a good idea. I know he seems tame, but he’s still a wild animal,” Lace counseled, trying to back the little girl away from the wolf-creature. It stood back, as if indignant, but quickly returned to its docile position, lowering it’s massive head and sniffing at the girl’s feet. It rolled onto it’s back, begging for scritches, and Lily obliged it, running tiny hands over it’s stomach as it kicked and whined.

“Laaaace,” Lily whined. “Are you sure I can’t keep him? He reminds me of Hahren.”

Lace groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s an animal, Beans. You’re not bringing him back to Skyhold.”

“But he’s so sweet! He wouldn’t hurt a thing!”

“Just because he likes you doesn’t mean he’ll like everyone back at home. Leave him here. He’ll be happier on his own,” Lace said, looking at the wolf-thing. It had rolled back onto all fours, standing to it’s full height. It was taller than her, and taller than Lily.

The girl frowned, sticking out her lip in a pout, but finally gave up her fight.

“Go home, Fen’Hahren,” she said, scratching the wolf behind its ear. “Maybe my own hahren will meet you some day, and you can tell him I miss him.” The wolf-creature seemed to nod, touching its nose to the girl’s forehead, before giving her a tentative lick up the side of the face.  It bowed low –if such a creature could bow- and lopped off into the forest, black fur disappearing into the darkness.

“Come on, Beans,” Lace said, watching it leave. “We need to get back to Skyhold. We have a report for your mother.”


End file.
